


A cage is still a cage (even if the bars are invisible)

by Hornet394



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Attempted (but failed) conditioning, Choking, Dubious Consent, Implied Voyeurism, Imprisonment, Lima Syndrome, M/M, Non-explicit Watersports, Not particularly in that order, Obsessive Behavior, Rimming, Rough Sex, Stockholm Syndrome, The warnings make the fic look worse than it actually is, Torture, Undiscussed Masochism, but still not for the faint-hearted!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 10:02:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12385914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hornet394/pseuds/Hornet394
Summary: Luhan had the world in his fingers, but there was only one man he desired. Yixing is his downfall, his crime, his sin. His guilty pleasure.Luhan trades everything to cage him.





	A cage is still a cage (even if the bars are invisible)

**Author's Note:**

> #66 for 9091fxh Round 2
> 
> Please heed the warning tags seriously!
> 
> A prompt that I really went off the tracks with!! much thanks to A and L for betaing it for me, esp L for putting up with all the discussions of the tags and all that!!

They escort him in the immediate aftermath of the war.

His head is held high, as usual. Exquisite, prideful, just like Luhan remembers.

//

They call King Luhan the fairest of all, but Luhan secretly disagrees. This caged wolf in front of him is much more beautiful.

This prince is not liked by many, not in the conventional sense. He is not diplomatic. He is honest, straight to the point.

But that is a lie. No one who traverses politics cannot not pick up the skill of diplomacy. Luhan thinks he does a much better job than others.

The truth is, he does not bother. He does not deign to associate himself with rounding politicians. He is the Great General, he is a warrior before he is a prince. He is flesh and bone, and he is beautiful.

High collars stifle him. There are two dimples on his face - one is more obvious, the other comes out rarely. He looks like a small animal when he eats, eyes wide, cheeks bulging. Times like this he looks like a tame lamb, but everyone sees the vicious wolf that lives within.

His hair curls naturally, if left long enough. He is a fierce lion, and Luhan wants to tame him.

And now he has the chance.

They bring him in chains, and Luhan locks him in the room reserved for his most beloved concubine, his queen.

It is a room furnished for someone who will never appear, but it fits him. In this room, he is no longer a Prince of a bygone nation, he is no longer a Great General. He is Yixing, Luhan’s caged wolf.

//

His favourite colour is purple.

//

He tries to bite his tongue, so they gag him. They chain his limbs to the bedposts so he cannot kill himself.

//

When Luhan first enters the room, his breathing stops. Velvet silk frames him very well, and in his eyes - Luhan can see it - is defiance.

He is in Luhan’s cage. Luhan is trembling when he caresses Yixing’s cheek. He can hear his own breathing as he touches the porcelain skin, traces the sharp features.

“Don’t try to kill yourself,” Luhan whispers into his ear. “Your sister looks very much like you.”

Luhan can feel the body tense up under him, a mere dilating of the pupils that indicate the man is in any way affected.

Luhan leaves, then. Yixing needs to be fed.

//

As the Zhang family goes, their hair has always been brown, a sign of their royal lineage. Yixing, however, dyed his own hair a common black in order to look more fierce on the battlefield and to improve the morale of the soldiers. It also makes him out of the race to inherit the throne.

It is rare that people remember Yixing had once had brown hair. Commoners think he is a bastard prince, one that was unfortunate enough to have inherited from his commoner mother’s bloodlines rather than his father’s.

It had taken five months for Luhan to figure that out.

//

Once Yixing’s brown roots start to show, Luhan orders for the next step to go ahead. The Lu family sports a honey blonde colour.

“That is not... proper, my king,” the royal barber stammers. “Only members of the royal household are allowed to dye their hair honey blonde.”

“I am your king, am I not?” Luhan towers coldly over the old man. “Besides, who said he wasn’t?”

Luhan’s advisor reminds the man that his family resides in court. The old man bows, and Luhan has his guards escort the old man to the Queen’s Quarters.

A few hours later, the old man finds Luhan in his office, pretending to be busy.

“It is done,” the old man says gravely, and Luhan stomps off happily, missing the old man’s gaze of regret, disappointment, and anguish.

//

Yixing’s hair is cropped short from military service, but with the colour that identifies him as part of the Lu royal family, Luhan’s blood quickens.

Understandable then, that he frees his swelling manhood from the confines of his robes and, having pried Yixing’s jaw open, sinks it into velvety warmth.

Yixing thrashes instinctively, but opposite the bed, hanging on the bathroom door, is a crop of long, curly brown hair, taken from a girl the night Luhan had first spoken to Yixing.

So Yixing quiets down quickly, his eyes wide with disbelief, his whole body unmoving, that Luhan might as well have fucked a doll, but this is Yixing. The teeth that accidentally scrape across the head of his manhood only arouses Luhan even further.

There is colour rising in Yixing’s cheeks from the strain, and his chin is starting to bruise from Luhan’s tight grip, but Luhan doesn’t relent.

These are Luhan’s marks on Yixing, all of them.

An intense pleasure rides up Luhan’s spine, and it is with a loud gasp that he ejaculates into Yixing’s throat.

The man chokes, his cheeks reddening even further, and there is liquid gathering at the corner of his eyes from exertion.

So beautiful.

Luhan wipes away the fluid on the man’s face and tucks his manhood back inside his robes. There are stains on his honey blonde hair as well. “Take good care of him,” he tells the guards as he passes them on the way out, ignoring their varying looks of shock and disgust.

//

Luhan has his personal servant go and take care of Yixing. Yifan is not only aware of what Luhan wants, he’s also leader of the shadow guards that defend Luhan from harm. He can control Yixing.

The man’s head is bowed in reverence as he receives his reward, the look in his eyes undecipherable.

//

Luhan wants to poison Yixing, drug him, make him stay by his side forever.

//

The next time Luhan goes to the Queen’s Chambers, Yixing is sitting on the bed, reading a book. His pale skin is unblemished, barely hidden by the imperial purple bathrobe Yifan has put him in.

The man himself is sitting by the door silently, blending into the background just as Luhan had instructed. “How are you doing today?” Luhan asks, sitting down next to Yixing.

He ducks to avoid the book flying at him, but the light sting on his cheek tells him that he’s been cut. The smile on his face widens, and he leans forward, closer to Yixing. The man is trying to control himself, more than aware of the consequences if he resists any further, but his heaving chest and the pure hatred in his eyes betrays him.

“Don’t do that, please,” Luhan says, letting disappointment leak into his voice. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Ha!” Yixing chokes out, a mocking sound that makes Luhan frown even further. “Am I supposed to grovel in front of you, your majesty? Thank you, praise you?"

Luhan flinches at those words, and then he hits Yixing across the face.

His hands sting, and he's immediately cupping Yixing's face in both palms, cooing lightly over the place he just hit, regret filling his every fibre. "I'm so sorry, Angel," He blurts out, "I didn't- I'm working on my temper, I swear!"

He didn't understand the sudden fear that flashed through Yixing's eyes, but all he knows is that Yixing is falling limp, pliant, and Luhan climbs over Yixing to straddle his legs.

Finally, he can touch his angel, his wolf, his demon from hell. His fingers dance delicately over Yixing's eyelids, pressing lightly on them, feeling how his eyeballs twitch underneath the skin erratically.

They trace his nose, broken once when he was 13 as he was training, now fixed like nothing had happened. His skin is pockmarked, faint scars here and there. Luhan's fingers dwell on Yixing's full lips, and they part slightly as if on his command.

Luhan's index finger curves around Yixing's jaw and he lets out a small noise of regret at the burnt patch of skin that is hidden underneath his chin. "Do you want it gone?" He asks. "My doctors can make you perfect again."

Yixing tenses up underneath him, Luhan can feel the muscles tensing up underneath him and it is truly fascinating. So captivating that he starts to push the bathrobe apart with care - but he still tears it by accident, making Yixing hiss in alarm.

"Get a new one!" Luhan barks at Yifan, throwing the tattered robe in his general direction. He doesn't bother to see if Yifan gets it - for now, Yixing's bare body is once again lain out freely for Luhan's perusal.

This time, Luhan takes his time. He lays his palms flat on Yixing's chest, feeling Yixing's heart beating underneath it, rapid, erratic, with every rise of his chest. He curves a finger around Yixing's left nipple, a dusty pink colour that fascinates Luhan. He presses down at it gingerly, as if experimenting with Yixing's body again, experimenting with a boy's body. Taking the other nipple in the other hand, he tugs at both of them, roll them, pinch them until the skin is turning red, flamed.

And the noises Yixing makes! He is trying so hard to repress himself, and Luhan is not cruel enough to break the last shred of control Yixing grips firmly over himself. He is not going to force Yixing to moan for him, because Luhan knows Yixing will learn to surrender everything to him.

High-pitched whimpers escape from Yixing's throat, and a more throaty cry emerges when Luhan parts Yixing's legs.

Yixing's thighs are another beauty to be worshipped, strong and supple from military duty, but sensitive, judging from the way his toes are curling up. His legs trembling as Luhan holds them apart, pressing light kisses to his inner thighs, occasionally using teeth, leaving Luhan's marks all over him.

"Ju- Just put it in!" Yixing snarls, but his voice breaks at the end when Luhan kisses close to where his leg meets the torso.

"Patience, my Angel." Luhan murmurs, "I want you to enjoy this."

Yixing falls oddly silent after that, but Luhan is undeterred. He licks closer to Yixing's entrance, an untouched region that Luhan will stake his ownership over soon enough. Wetting his index finger, he pokes at that closed hole, testing it, and it elicits a full body shudder from Yixing.

"I'm doing this just for my sister..."

"Of course," Luhan hums, pressing in with the finger. The rim sucks him in greedily, impossibly tight heat that wraps him up, giving him no space to maneuver.

"Relax, Angel," Luhan instructs, "I don't want to hurt you."

He hears a hysterical laugh, one that grates him, but Yixing's muscles do relax and Luhan can push the finger in even further.

He has to close his eyes briefly, because he had never imagined this before.

No, that statement would not be true. He had imagined this so many times in his dreams, making love to Yixing, being made love to by Yixing, two bodies coming together as one. In his dreams, Yixing was open with his affections, he kissed Luhan back, he touched Luhan back, he gave himself up to Luhan, every single inch of him he gave to Luhan.

Luhan presses his face closer to Yixing's spread thighs, and when Luhan's tongue touches Yixing's entrance - that's when the first real moan drops from Yixing's lips.

Elated, Luhan dives in for more, wanting to hear more of those noises drop from Yixing's lips. He replaces his finger with his tongue, closing his eyes as Yixing's musky scent washes over him, acting like the perfect aphrodisiac as his tongue invades Yixing's entrance.

Yixing's legs are quivering under Luhan's hands, and those embarrassing moans rocket across the room before Yixing seems to have covered his mouth with his hands.

"You're telling yourself you're not supposed to enjoy this." Luhan purrs, "You're telling yourself I'm forcing you to do this, you're only spreading your legs for me to save your sister's life."

He gets up to pry Yixing's hands apart, he meets Yixing's glare calmly as he lines the head of his cock against Yixing's fluttering entrance. "There is no shame in lying underneath another man, Angel. I will make you enjoy it."

Then, grasping Yixing's arms, he thrusts in for the first time, sinking his manhood into this tight heat that he had only fantasized about day and night. A choked gasp bursts out of Yixing's chest, his entire body tensed up at this foreign, strange intrusion. It's too tight, too dry, but Luhan just presses forward, barging in.

"S-Stop!" Yixing cries once, and Luhan does draw back, only to thrust in again, slamming Yixing's body up against the mattress. “You’re too tense, Angel,” Luhan gasps out, “Relax and enjoy.”

“How?” Yixing spits, he’s still trying to fight Luhan off, and Luhan’s patience is running thin.

He lies.

His patience is infinite when it comes to Yixing, so he backs away, disgruntled and disappointed.

“Alright, Angel.” He sighs, stroking his own cock roughly, precum beading on his fingertips. “I must seek my pleasure somewhere else, then.”

He’s meaning to just go into the bathroom and reacquaint himself with his right hand, sinking back into the dreams and fantasies of Yixing that had carried him this far, but Yixing clearly thinks of something else, because the breathy words that come out of his mouth takes Luhan by surprise.

“T-take me...” The words are forced, but they are there, real. “Leave her alone...”

“Oh, Angel,” Luhan breathes out, “I would never dream of touching your sister.”

And that is a fact, regardless of whether or not Yixing is spreading his legs for Luhan as he is right now, forcing himself to relax, to accept Luhan’s cock.

“You can still say no, Angel.” Luhan reasserts, “I want you to enjoy this.”

Yixing closes his eyes. “This is going to happen sooner or later,” His voice is flinty, resigned.

Cocking his head to one side, Luhan moves away again, and Yixing cracks an eye open in uncertainty. “I’ll make you beg for it, Angel.” Luhan bends down to kiss the head of Yixing’s flaccid cock, then scoots down even further and slides two fingers into Yixing’s entrance.

It’s still a tight fit, even though Luhan had forced his own cock inside, but it’s an okay enough slide for two of Luhan’s fingers.

His other hand rests on Yixing’s left thigh, massaging the tense muscles gently. Prodding briskly yet gently, Luhan’s fingers finally brush across a place which makes Yixing’s breath hitch.

“Men, women, we are all sexual creatures,” Luhan says matter-of-factly. “It’s alright to want this, Angel. Let me help you feel good. You don’t have to be so... uncooperative.”

“I know.” Yixing barks a laugh. “It’s just because it’s you.”

“What’s wrong with me?” Luhan asks, keeping his voice level. “Just do whatever you want to do.” Yixing sighs, his right foot curling minutely.

Keeping his fingers hovering over Yixing’s prostate, Luhan straightens up. “How about we do a bet, you and I?”

Yixing's eyes narrows. 

"If-" Luhan says carefully, gauging his words, watching Yixing's reaction. "If I can make you come from my fingers alone - I get to have sex with you whenever I want. If I can't - if I can't, I'll let you go."

"How long?" Yixing asks, tense. 

"Half an hour." Luhan purrs, “Any longer, and Yifan will stop me.”

At the mention of the third man’s name, Yixing bolts up, but Yifan is no longer in sight. Luhan’s secret guard is well-trained, after all. “Don’t worry, Angel.” Luhan reassures, “I will not break my promise. I will not touch you beyond there.” He taps the rim of Yixing’s entrance lightly, and it tenses up minutely, as if flinching.

“Alright,” Yixing says, shakily.

But Yixing isn’t well-experienced in the ways of men, Luhan knows. He knows the practicalities of it, but had never succumbed to the lust of body as most military men do in the present era. Luhan takes great care, covering his fingers with oil liberally before he re-inserting two fingers in. He notices some blood tainting the sheets, and he curses at himself for being hasty earlier, but for now he must focus.

The first finger goes in easily, and Yixing’s breath is long and dragged out. Luhan takes his time, really exploring every crevice, every inch of Yixing. His fingernails briefly catch against Yixing’s prostate, making him utter a cute little whimper, so unfamiliar yet not uncharacteristic. Luhan wants to hear more of this side of Yixing that, perhaps Yixing himself hadn’t noticed, but for now, Luhan needs to win.

The second finger is as gentle as the first, and when Luhan starts scissoring his fingers, spreading Yixing apart, Yixing’s breath starts to come out laboured, a delicate sheen of sweat settling over his body, betraying his arousal to Luhan.

And when the first drop of precum beads on Yixing’s cock, a tear runs down his pale cheeks and sinks into the mattress.

“It’s alright, Angel,” Luhan cooes, adding a third finger, “I’m here.”

He starts to really fuck Yixing, hitting the small bundle of nerves that send pleasure rocketing up Yixing’s spine, but then avoiding it. It makes Yixing look forward to everytime Luhan touches his prostate and loathe every time he doesn’t, but at the same time grow in anticipation for the next time Luhan’s fingers would massage that area. It eases Yixing into deeper arousal.

The first moan drops from Yixing’s lips. Breathless, desperate, entrenched with guilt, yet needy at the same time. Luhan’s fingers begin to linger on Yixing’s prostate longer and longer, teasing him, playing with him as the sounds of pleasure grow more and more frequent, and the air grows hotter and heavier with sex.

Luhan has to shift his legs minutely as his cock swells from within the confines of his own robes, while Yixing’s own rises up greedily in full view. Time is running out, but Luhan is confident. 

Briefly he pulls his fingers out, and the panicked look Yixing throws him, along with the frantic clenching of his entrance already shows Luhan what he wants to see.

He wastes no time in repositioning himself between Yixing’s legs, two of his fingers going in sharply and deeply, thrusting against Yixing’s prostate, fingernails scraping along it. His fingers dance over that spot erratically, sometimes pressing down harder, sometimes using his fingernails, sometimes just light touches that ghost over Yixing’s nerves.

Yixing’s moans are laced with panic, and Luhan knows Yixing is about to lose. The last straw, perhaps, is Yixing’s fingers clenching on the sheets, and then, his right hand snaking out, wanting to just _touch_.

“No touching.” Luhan murmurs, but a smile is curling on his face, knowing that the battle has been won once again. “That’s my challenge, right?”

His breath hits against Yixing’s trembling cock, and then white sprays all over Luhan’s face.

He withdraws his fingers, waits for Yixing to come down from his orgasmic high, waits for the shock to take hold as calmly wipes Yixing’s cum off his face, tongue darting out just to taste.

No words are exchanged between them as Yixing’s eyes locks onto Luhan’s own. “Five minutes.” Yifan’s voice drifts towards their ears, and Yixing turns away momentarily. When he looks back to Luhan, it is resolve that fills his gaze, and he’s sitting up to undo Luhan’s robes.

//

And then Yixing becomes Luhan's world.

//

Luhan spends so much time in the Queen's Quarters there's no point in staying in his old room anymore. His servants now go fetch him from the Queen's Quarters, clothing him as Yixing sleeps on, serves him breakfast which he hand feeds Yixing, to Yixing's displeasure.

But the long mop of brown hair, the one that hangs on the door, makes Yixing subdued and obedient, even if he is asked to put away his dignity, his pride, everything that makes him Zhang Yixing.

And this is good and all, but Luhan cannot help but think that there is something missing. There is no more fire in this Yixing, this one that spreads his legs when Luhan asks him to, the one that services Luhan like a trained whore (trained by Luhan himself) that was born to please men. This Yixing lets Luhan spank his ass until it is a flaming red, this Yixing holds still when Luhan trickles hot candle wax onto his body. This Yixing wags his tail like a lazy puppy, his honey blonde hair is his collar.

This Yixing has no fire.

But Luhan doesn't mind, because he loves Yixing regardless. Every morning he rushes through morning court, just so he can get back to the Queen's Quarters before Yixing awakes. There he feeds the man breakfast, then he gets to spend some time with Yixing. They play chess. Luhan shows Yixing a new sleeping robe, which Yixing smiles thinly at and puts on. They talk. Luhan does most of it. He doesn't mind, though. He's sharing something with Yixing, he's sharing his intimate moments with Yixing. He's giving himself over to Yixing.

After supper, Luhan has to leave the room to take care of menial tasks as Yixing reads.

Yixing reads all sorts of books, not just the ones Luhan had prepared for him. He had taken care not to prepare the same books in Yixing's library already, but Yixing was always asking for more books, always asking for more.

Luhan comes back to feed Yixing dinner, and he looks at the music Yixing has written in the day. Many people compose music nowadays, but Yixing is the most talented of them all. Luhan tells Yixing so everyday, and Yixing just smiles wryly and thanks him for the compliment.

Finally, they have sex.

Luhan enjoys the curves that Yixing has put on, now that he no longer does regular exercise, coupled with the fact that Luhan is giving him the best food in the country. Luhan is completely addicted to Yixing's body.

Sometimes he takes Yixing from behind, mounting him like a rabid animal, gnawing at Yixing's sensitive throat, leaving red marks all along. Sometimes he enjoys fucking him against a wall, holding him up and pinning him against it, watching the once Great General be completely reliant on him, vulnerable, at his mercy. Sometimes he makes Yixing ride him, giving him the illusion and hope that Yixing is here with him because he wants to. Sometimes he does all of the above.

And Yixing moans and tightens around him like a whore, gasping for breath, his legs spread apart obscenely as he begs Luhan for more, begs Luhan for release, begs Luhan for something that only Luhan can give and absolutely no one else can.

Tonight he comes in Yixing three times. Once in the bathtub, Yixing bouncing on Luhan's lap as water aided his entrance. The second time lying sideways on the bed with Yixing, holding one of his legs up, fucking him from behind, his cock buried in that tight heat over and over again as Yixing shook and clawed at the bedsheets, saliva rolling down uncontrollably. The last time he stands in front of Yixing as the other man kneels, too exhausted to endure another round of lovemaking, having come three times himself already, his body strung out from the constant overstimulation. So Luhan takes pity on Yixing and uses his mouth instead, anchoring him with his honey blonde hair. Luhan thrusts his hips in frantically, chasing his release, all the while looking straight into Yixing's weary eyes and tear-stained face. His abdomen clenches and before he knows it he's spraying more than white semen across Yixing's face.

He ends up fucking Yixing one more time on the bed because of the image he sees, Yixing's legs over his shoulders, his voice so hoarse he can no longer scream his pleasure, his entire body reeking of Luhan.

Yixing is battling sleep when Luhan pulls out of him, eyelids fluttering close. Luhan pets his hair as Yixing falls asleep, then grabs a wet cloth to wipe Yixing clean, taking care to dig out all of the cum inside of him so he won’t get sick. He hums a slow tune as he puts the rag down, and Yifan appears from wherever he had been hiding the whole time, as he tends to do so when Luhan arrives, with more clean cloths.

Finally, Luhan covers Yixing’s entrance with healing salve, while indulging himself on the small whimpers Yixing makes in his sleep as he is pleasured this way.

But Luhan controls himself and finally draws the blankets over both of them, encasing Yixing in his hold as he falls asleep beside him.

//

But oh, how they talk! The palace is built on conversations, and these are mostly just gossip. Politics is built on gossip. Human nature is built on gossip. They talk about the King’s moral degeneration, and they talk about the hidden beauty that no one is privy to. They talk about the whore the King must have gotten himself hung up on, a woman with immaculate beauty and sexual prowess that have trapped him in silken sheets, leading him to abandon his duties as a king and as a man.

They talk about the King’s obsession with brown-haired ladies a month ago, yet he has made no one his concubine, let alone queen. Perhaps one of those brown-haired ladies are now in the Queen’s Quarters, selfishly shielded from everyone’s gaze?

They talk about how they would like to gaze upon this goddess as well. They talk about how they will wage war just to see her face, because the more they do not know who she is, the more they can fantasize, the more they can imagine.

They imagine how it would be like to fuck her, to taste the forbidden fruit that has seduced the King. They imagine _being_ the King, being worshipped by this vixen that has ensnared the heart of the most powerful man in the kingdom. Once ambitious man, once a man who waged war, who made their country strong, yet now was complacent, pliant, content.

They try and shut up when their King passes, but words reach Luhan's ears one way or another. He throws a teacup against the wall when they escalate, when they talk about this woman's moans, her sinfully long legs, her slender fingers.

It is all fake, but it makes Luhan so _mad_.

Yixing is _his_ and _his_ alone. In his rage he decides to go for a ride, letting the wind carry his worries and insecurities away. He lets the rabbits and deer that fall to his arrows and spear die on behalf of the men he wants to strike down for even daring to _think_ about laying a finger on his Yixing, even if it is merely a false idea of a woman that doesn't exist.

How _dare_ they?

He returns to the palace with his entourage with his riding clothes all muddy, and as he dismounts he spots a commotion on the other side of the stable. "What's going on?" he demands, and soon the assailant is brought in front of him.

It's a stable-hand, and a stubborn white mare. "I'm really sorry, my king," The man rasps, kneeling in apology as two pages hold the mare back. "Nothing a good old branding won't fix."

"Branding?" Luhan asks, "You mean marking her?"

"Y-yes, my lord." The stable hand gulps. "A brand and she quiets down, and everybody knows- everybody knows she's yours, my king."

"Well, get on with it." Luhan purrs, hurriedly turning away. 

He has an idea.

//

Yixing looks at him in surprise at the weirdly shaped iron he brings into the room. Luhan had had this procured specially from the blacksmiths.

"Let me tie you up," Luhan says, and Yixing obediently gets up and digs out the leather straps from the box in the bathroom, his fingers brushing against the now brittle brown strands cascading over the handle of the bathroom door.

Luhan isn't really a fan of tying Yixing up. If anything, he is the one who needs ropes around him, to keep him from crawling all over Yixing, constantly touching him, seeking him out. But in the earlier days, to get Yixing addicted to Luhan, Luhan had invested in soft leather straps that are firm but gentle, and now he ties Yixing to the bed naked, securing him with each limb. 

Yixing tugs at them experimentally and Luhan’s heart skips a beat. He tightens them even further, makes sure Yixing doesn’t even have room to wriggle in. Then he turns towards the fireplace, and Yifan appears from the shadows with the bucket of firewood. Luhan lights it.

Yixing is making a soft noise in query, he can’t really see what Luhan is doing but he can see the fire, he can see Yifan making an appearance and staying in sight. 

“This is necessary, Angel.” Luhan croaks out. He’s not sure if Yixing can hear him over the roar of the fire, but Yifan momentarily flinches next to Luhan, drawing a curious glance. No matter. Heavy leather gloves on, Luhan puts the branding iron into the fire, watching as the inverted character of “Lu” heats up, turning red, and then orange.

“It is alright, my king,” Yifan murmurs, quietly. 

“A little while longer,” Luhan insists.

“What is it?” Yixing calls from the back, panic clear in his voice, and then, with a heavy heart, Luhan turns around with the branding iron burning bright.

Yixing’s eyes widen and he begins to struggle, _really_ struggle, and Yifan melds back into the shadows as Yixing’s whole body tenses up, trying to get away, trying to escape, but the leather straps are high quality and they hold fast.

“We can talk this through, please, just put that down-” Yixing gasps out, true fear laced into his voice, filling the room, but Luhan presses on no matter how reluctant he is to hurt his angel.

The iron is sizzling hot, thrumming with danger. Yixing reads the word, and he thrashes even more. “Get away from me!” He shouts, and the entire bed frame groans with complaint, but Luhan has tied him down well.

No matter who Yixing is, he is still human. Luhan climbs onto the bed, careful of Yixing’s body as he gingerly makes his way closer to Yixing’s upper body.

"No, no, no, no, you can't do this to me, Luhan!" Yixing screams, but he is weak from weeks of captivity, and then Luhan is pressing the burning hot iron onto Yixing's left chest, and Yixing’s cry of pain rockets in the room and curls arounds the beams, lingering for days.

It is not the pain, Luhan surmises far later in the future, that had made Yixing act in such defiance. He is a soldier - they are used to pain. It was the irreversibility of what Luhan had done to him that was tearing Yixing apart from within.

After all, Yixing was a prince from the Zhang kingdom, and unlike Luhan, he valued family.

After all, this was what Luhan was gripping the wolf's neck with.

Luhan has Yifan knock Yixing out when the man starts to claw at the mark on his chest, trying to destroy it before it scabs. He hates hurting Yixing, but he hates it even further when Yixing tries to hurt himself.

When Yixing comes to, he immediately springs up and chokes Luhan.

"You have no right!" He spits. "How dare you brand me? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Luhan can’t speak, his windpipe is completely crushed by the other man, the force of a soldier pinning him down. But it doesn't matter, because from his vantage point, he can see his name, "Lu" imprinted above Yixing's heart. With every rise of Yixing's chest, with every beat of his heart, Luhan's attention was drawn to his own name.

His vision blurs and oxygen is now scraping his throat harshly, he can feel snot and saliva dripping out from from his nose and mouth. Yixing’s features turn blurry, but his eyes are _oh so piercing_. Luhan’s limbs are turning heavy, his head turning light like it is about to float away or explode, and he is just about to pass out when Yixing lets him go.

Almost instantly blood and oxygen rushes to Luhan’s face at once and he’s coughing, spluttering, retching from his close encounter with death.

"You're fucking sick in the head," Yixing's voice is an echo in Luhan's brain, and he struggles to refocus on his angel. Yixing has an odd look on his face, still pale as he looks down between Luhan's legs.

The sound Luhan produces is scarred, caught in his throat, but it is a clear one of pressure as Yixing presses down on the bulge of his robes harshly with his palm.

“You sick fuck,” Yixing spits. “I can’t believe this turns you on. What on earth are you afraid of, Luhan?”

Still boneless, Luhan lets Yixing rip his robes apart, his throat only capable of making soft, frog-like noises as Yixing spreads his thighs and sinks down on Luhan’s erect cock, while rubbing his own erection, precum dripping onto Luhan’s robes. For a moment he just sits there, inner muscles squeezing around Luhan’s cock erratically as he lords over Luhan. Honey blonde hair falls into his eyes and Yixing reaches a hand out to brush it away, inadvertently rubbing some of his own precum onto the strands. Then Yixing leans forward, so that he is kneeling on the bed with Luhan’s legs between his own, his hands planted on Luhan’s chest as his back arches beautifully.

He begins to move on his own accord, strong thighs lifting up and down as his entrance swallows Luhan's cock over and over again.

“I love you,” Luhan croaks out. "I love you so much." A tear leaks out of the corner of Yixing's eyes and he quickly brings a hand up to wipe it away, and the man closes his eyes minutely, as if coming to terms with something.

Then Yixing's hands slide from Luhan's chest to around Luhan's throat, vindication clear in his eyes, and Luhan lets Yixing bring him to the brink of death over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again.

When he stumbles to court the next morning, everyone is staring at the bruises that decorate his neck in shock. He's completely lost his voice, when Yixing had been overzealous with his grasp when the man had been on the brink of orgasm, bouncing on Luhan's cock mindlessly, just chasing his own release yet not touching his own cock.

Luckily, there is nothing much to discuss today, only some ruffians making some movements to the South of the kingdom. Luhan waves for the Great General to take care of it himself, and the pudgy old man waddles away with his assignment as Luhan dismisses the court early. It is about time this man actually does something that applies to his role, after the years of war Luhan had waged personally.

No one dares ask him about the marks around his neck. They are large, firm, strong, unlikely to be from a girl’s small hands. Who could they be from, then? If the King doesn’t care, should they?

Yixing is still sullen when Luhan goes to his room afterwards. There is a bandage wound around his chest as it heals, but both of them can feel the word jumping out at them. Luhan tries to talk to him, gauge him, even tell him he can choke Luhan again, but Yixing doesn’t react at all, just sits there on the bed, fixing Luhan with a firm stare.

That night, Luhan doesn’t dare stay over at the Queen’s Quarters, and he returns to his own room, frustrated for something he doesn’t know.

It gets better as the days pass, as the bandages fall off and the brand Luhan has on Yixing doesn’t change. Yixing seems to have come to terms with it, but he refuses to look at himself at the mirror, and Luhan doesn’t make him.

But Luhan can’t help himself. He knows it makes Yixing uncomfortable, but he can’t help but trace the rigid scars with his fingers, he can’t help but kiss them, lave them with attention, even when Yixing cries out in frustration more than arousal. 

Yixing is _his_.

//

Yixing is _his_ , inside and out. Luhan thought he had made that clear.

So what is Yifan doing when Yixing accidentally drops a plate onto a floor? Did Luhan not instruct him to hide unless called? Did Luhan not instruct him the parameters of his tasks clearly?

Then why is he _caring_ for Yixing?

Only _Luhan_ can take care of Yixing. Only _Luhan_ is allowed to take care of Yixing.

So he calls Yifan away from Yixing’s room, far away from where he can gain access to Yixing.

“My king,” Yifan asks in hesitation, “is it alright to leave the room unattended?”

“Yixing will be fine!” Luhan snaps, and Yifan sinks to one knee instantly, knowing that he has pleased his king in some way.

“Why do you care so much about him anyway?” Luhan hisses, turning onto his guard, “You are merely carrying out _my_ orders.”

Yifan’s eyes fall onto the ground in shame, and it clicks.

“You desire him as well.” Luhan says, disappointment radiating from his words. Of course this would happen, Yixing is so beautiful. He should have expected that. Even the strongest of men would fall victim to his angel's charms, of course.

"No, my lord." Yifan insists, "I do not... desire him."

Luhan backhands the guard. His hand stings with pain, nor does Yifan falter, but the message is clear. "Liar." He spits out in rage. "I see the look in your eyes, Wu Yifan. How dare you?! Is there no one I can trust in this world?"

Yifan moves to speak, but Luhan raises a hand in clear disapproval. "Guard!" He calls, and they stand to attention next to him. Luhan points his finger at Yifan, his voice level, his hands level.

"Execute him." He orders.

The men hesitate, Yifan hesitates, but Luhan doesn't. "Execute him, I said." He repeats, and the two guards finally move to Yifan, one hand on the hilt of their swords.

"My Lord!" Yifan exclaims in shock, "For years I have served you loyally - my family have served you loyally - I did not - I would not dare have untowards thoughts towards- towards-"

The guards each take one of his arms, wrenches them backwards, forcing the man onto his knees. "My lord!" Yifan cries for the last time, but Luhan has turned his back.

But to his utmost horror, he is still reminded of this man that night, when he climbs into the bed in the Queen's Quarters. "Yifan's not here tonight." Yixing had mumbled around the mouthful of porridge Luhan was feeding him.

Luhan's grip on the spoon had tightened, but he forces himself to calm down and put the bowl and spoon away lest he spills it on Yixing. Yixing looks up in puzzlement, eyes clear and innocent, making him look much younger.

Luhan puts a hand in Yixing's hair, his honey blonde hair. Yixing is part of the Lu family. Is, and always will be. He caresses Yixing’s nipples, pinches them until they are red and hard, and Yixing is squirming in Luhan’s hold.

"W-wait-" Yixing gasps out, "It hu- hurts."

"Why are you thinking of Wu Yifan?" Luhan interrupts, grabbing Yixing by the waist and just lining up his cock to push into Yixing's loose entrance. Yixing whimpers at the intrusion, his nails digging into Luhan's arm, but Luhan wants an answer, now.

His thrusts jostle Yixing against the mattress, but Yixing seems to be far too preoccupied with moaning then answering Luhan's question. Growling in frustration, Luhan drags Yixing up until he's crouching on all fours, ignoring Yixing's sharp hiss when Luhan twists his legs forcefully and without warning.

His thrusts are punishing, hips slamming brutally against Yixing's as the other man pants into the pillow, and Luhan reaches a hand out to wrench Yixing up by the hair, forcing his spine to bend to accommodate Luhan's desires. "You know that sick fuck gets off on seeing you like this?" Luhan rasps, "You want to fucking please him, too, don't you?"

"W-wh- Lu- no- ah!"

"You're lying!" Luhan growls angrily, "I should never have put him by your side! I should never have put anyone by my side! You're mine, do you hear me?"

"I- L- I nev- ah- didn't-"

"Why," Luhan spits out, "why are you so defensive? You're mine, Zhang Yixing!"

Then, in the corner of his eyes, he spots roots of brown hair at the very base of Yixing's head, poking out tauntingly amongst the honey blonde. The rational part of his mind reminds him that Yixing is due another round of hair dye.

The irrational part, the louder part, has him slide out to Yixing's bewilderment as he grabs the decorative riding crop that adorns the mantle of the room. It may be decorative, but it is also functional.

"You're fucking mine!" Luhan growls as he brings the riding crop down.

"Fuck!" Yixing bursts out at the first hit, and he tries to turn around to see what Luhan is up too, but the next hit is coming down and he stays where he is to protect is far more vulnerable front.

"All of you belongs to me!" Luhan screams, bringing the object down with more and more force, "I fucking own you! Me, I own you!"

Over and over again, he needs this lesson, this concept to be hammered in. If locking the wolf up cannot stop his howls, then perhaps he needs to be muzzled.

Would others be attracted to Yixing, if he was no longer beautiful? He would always be beautiful to Luhan, of course, but to others - if he was no longer objectively attractive, then other people wouldn't try to take him away from Luhan, right?

But Yixing would hate him.

The riding crop hits true and hard, red, purple, and then more red as blood spills out. How much more does Luhan have to do? Why does everyone, everything conspire to take Yixing away from him? What more can Luhan do to make Yixing his?

Then the first sob wracks Yixing's body, and the riding crop freezes in mid-air.

Fat droplets drop onto the silk sheets, true, actual tears. Not out of stimulation, not out of Luhan's whim. Yixing is breaking down right now, and everything is Luhan's fault.

"I didn't do anything," Yixing chokes out, "I never did anything, and here I am, nothing but your plaything."

The words seize up at the end and Yixing curls further into himself into a fetal position, at the same time accentuating the redness running all over his back, the open wounds gaping mockingly at Luhan.

"Yi- Yixing-" Luhan drops the crop onto the mattress like it is made of burning lava, his hands are trembling, red streaked over it as he tries to reach out for Yixing, but the man flinches backwards, blood rubbing over the mattress.

"No! I didn't mean to- I didn't mean to hurt you!" Luhan rambles, "Ple- Angel, don't turn me away!"

“I don’t deserve any of this.” Yixing rasps, “Am I not a man? Am I not a free man? I have given you _everything_! My dignity, my pride, my _identity_ \- and I don’t even get a guarantee that my family is safe, that my sister is safe. I have beared everything you have done onto me, and my sister could be _dead_ for all I know!”

More tears gush out and Yixing turns away, his whole body quivering as he tries to shield his vulnerability from Luhan.

It breaks Luhan’s heart. “I-” Luhan bites his lip. What could he say? He had lashed out on his angel, his proud angel. He had tore him down from the sky and clipped his wings, he had put him in a cage.

But this was good, wasn’t it? Yixing wouldn’t even spare a glance at Luhan if Luhan hadn’t done this. This was the only way Luhan could have ever caught Yixing’s eye, this was the only way Yixing would see him, notice him, talk to him, love him.

And Yixing loved him, right?

“I hate you.” Yixing’s words are like poison.

“You’re a fucking monster.” It corrodes, you can’t wipe it away, you can’t cure it, the damage is done.

“I hate you so much.” Yixing is poison.

Luhan manages to force out a single word. “No.”

“Your words are meaningless.” Yixing whispers. “They are meaningless, because you have put a leash on me.”

Luhan reaches a trembling hand to touch Yixing on the shoulder. Yixing doesn’t flinch, but the look he gives Luhan is steely, flinty. Perhaps there is also disappointment in Yixing’s eyes, but Luhan doesn’t want to misinterpret anything.

“I really love you,” Luhan chokes out, he can feel his own eyes watering up. “All I want is for you to stay with me.”

“You threaten me with my sister everyday,” Yixing snarls, the tears streaming down his face hitting on Luhan’s heart painfully. “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t do this to me!”

"I lied- I lied, I'm sorry, Angel," Luhan gasps out as he wipes away tears frantically, "You don't have to cry over her, I don't have her, I lied, Angel, don’t- don’t hate me!" Heavy sobs are wracking his body as the apologies and clarifications spill out and out and out, as he admits everything to Yixing.

How he had loved him for years, how he had loved him from afar. How he had desired Yixing, how he had waged war just because he wanted to _see_ Yixing. How Yixing’s family had just disappeared, how Luhan had just destroyed his Kingdom on a token manner to placate his people.

How Luhan would do anything, _give up_ everything for Yixing.

Yixing quiets, to Luhan’s relief. Yixing quiets, and then he is spreading his legs again, as if what had just happened just now had not existed, as if nothing had happened even though his back is an ugly mess of flesh and blood, even though the crop is staining the sheets red.

But for now, Luhan is satisfied, happy even, that his angel had forgiven him, and he eagerly sinks into his angel’s loving embrace.

//

Perhaps this is the instant where Luhan is pushed to confront the sad, ugly truth that this is all an illusion. 

But Yixing is Luhan’s world, his purpose. His past, his present, his forever.

//

War is waged again, but not on Luhan’s terms. The unrest in the South proves to be more than just barbarians, where the Kingdom to their South - Yixing’s kingdom, Yixing’s _former_ kingdom, the _shell_ of his kingdom seeks to revive their dynasty. Yixing’s younger brother, a brown-haired youth executes Luhan’s Great General before he himself has a chance to kill the incompetent turd of a man.

Luhan doesn’t go to war himself this time - Yixing is _here_ , and Luhan _needs_ to be with Yixing, or he will die. Luckily, he has men to throw at the kid. The kid fights strong, the men fight strong, but Luhan is certain they will win this battle of attrition eventually.

For now, he loses himself in Yixing. His footsteps are heavy as he approaches the Queen’s Quarters, his forehead still creased from the newest battle reports that had been relayed to him in court.

"You're finally here!" Yixing chirps, closing his book and putting it away. It seems he hadn't made much progress on the book today, judging by the position of the bookmark.

"Yeah," Luhan says wearily, taking his clunky court robes off, "there were complications in the south.”

“Complications?” Yixing breathes, landing lightly on the carpeted floor as he embraces Luhan from behind. Hot breath hits against the back of Luhan’s neck, the soft tufts of Yixing’s hair tickling his ears pleasantly. 

“Nothing to worry about.” Luhan says, turning around to kiss Yixing’s cheek, relishing in the sensation of the smooth skin underneath his lips. “Say, do you fancy a trip?”

“A trip?” Yixing hums, “You want to bring me on a trip?”

“Yeah.” Luhan swallows thickly, looking into Yixing’s sincere gaze. “Yeah, somewhere, just you and me.”

Yixing looks so gentle like this, so domestic. Like he is wedded to Luhan, and had just welcomed him home for a long day of work. Just like commoners, without a care in the world, simply having each other is enough.

“Have you seen snow before?” Luhan starts, undoing the last of his formal robes and draping them over a chair, “We can go up North, where there is snow, but where there are also cherry blossoms. The sky is always white, and the ground is always white.”

“Cherry blossoms?” Yixing echoes, seeming to be exceptionally docile today. “I would like to see snow, and cherry blossoms.”

Luhan looks at Yixing with a fond expression. “You’d look beautiful there.” He crouches down to undo the buckles on his boots, and then Yixing’s body is draping over his from behind, sensuously, making Luhan’s fingers freeze up.

“You’d look beautiful there, too, my king.”

Then a sharp hand comes down on the back of Luhan’s head, and his own movements are in slow motion as the floor rushes towards him.

//

He would live only for Yixing, he would die only for Yixing.

//

When the hood over his head is taken away, Luhan shakes his head to clear it, his eyes screwed shut, but then calloused hands grip at his chin forcing him to look up.

"Welcome to my kingdom, King Luhan." Yixing purrs, his voice confident, strong, and Luhan only understands now that what he had was but a ghost of this person standing in front of him. He has pitch black hair and he's clad in his military uniform, the one of his own kingdom.

"You-" Luhan licks his lips, they are chapped and brittle. "You attacked me."

"Of course you're still thinking about that." Yixing sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Unfortunately, the man you thought killed - Wu Yifan - he was smuggled out by his men, and he went home for me. So here I am, and there you are."

"Wu Yifan?" Luhan repeats stupidly, staring dumbly at the imposing figure Yixing has.

A military-grade boot grinds into the bulge in Luhan's pants, and it grows even larger. "Now it's my turn to have fun with you, my King." Yixing smirks at Luhan's reaction. "Unlike you, I don't have a fake sister to threaten you with - but you don't exactly need that, do you?"

//

Yixing is Luhan’s poison, Luhan’s drug. He will stay by Yixing’s side forever.

**Author's Note:**

> (no hate pls) (I worked hard on this!!)


End file.
